Cafe Spain
by ChibiAnimeFreak
Summary: Lovino feels isolated and lonely. His brother has a marvelous job, a live... and a stable partner. And him? He has nothing. Or at least, he had nothing until he found a certain Spanish cafe run by a certain Spaniard... Spamano! TRANSLATION
1. Escaping

_Well hello again to all after another resounding absence from this place … Well don't worry I have a half written Spamano one-shot and a barely at all written next chapter to Rallentando which will probably never actually get written … damn it. _

_IMPORTANT: This is not actually my story, it is a translation of an INCREDIBLE Spamano story written originally in Spanish. The amazing author __**Kaitogirl95**__ has permitted me to translate it into English to share with the English-speaking community here on fanfiction! However, if your first language is Spanish (or if you want to practice Spanish or want to read it in its original form) I suggest going to read the original. It's called "__Cafetería España__" originally. As the original author of this story is from Spain, there are a few cultural things in their that I will make notes on, as well as a bit of Italian, the likes of which is pretty obvious if you speak Spanish, but probably not so obvious otherwise. There is also like one thing I couldn't figure out how to translate properly, so if there's some awkwardness it's because of that, and I apologize. _

_Disclaimer: Neither Hetalia nor this story belong to me, I am simply a lonely translator hoping to improve my Spanish by doing this. _

o.O.0.O.o

**ROMANO'S POV**

A hot summer afternoon. I, the sexy and super**-**cool Lovino Vargas, am sitting in a magnificent couch in my apartment, watching TV.

God, I'm bored … But this couch is so comfy**, **I'm melting into it. It's more comfortable than … than …

Than the most comfortable thing you could imagine, fucker!

I'm waiting for a damn sign from heaven to inspire me to do something useful, or simply for a burst of drowsiness that could make me fall asleep, but nothing comes. I remain at leisure and awake.

And the worst of all of this is that I have to stand you.

Yes, you, the one reading me. Do you think thatI can't see you? You have your damn nose in my business. I feel like my privacy is being violated, damn it …

Fucking bastard, don't you have anything better to do?

… No, of course you don't.

Nothing's better than reading me. I'm much more entertaining than anything else. I'm even more fun to watch than that José Mota*. And you know it, don't you? That's why you're spying on me. So you know that it's almost a privilege that I'm letting you read this, for the love of tomatoes!

And … I suppose you're hoping for a story … an entertaining story that cuts the boredom from your life, right? _Che palle!_

Well**,** I regret deceiving you, but my life is pretty boring. Yes, nothing to do, nothing to say …

You don't even know where I am, or my actual setting, right?

Okay … Since I'm a benevolent guy, I'll show you around. Nothing can stop me from doing it … So here I go:

It's summer (I think I've already said that before, or am I wrong?). The infernal heat is melting the fucking buildings. I'm baking like a chicken while watching the episode of House that I recorded last night. How I love that old man.

… Eh, seriously, he's the fucking boss. And if anyone wants to deny it, get close, come here and say it to my face. I'll make them change their opinion in the style of the Neapolitan mafia, if they need to**.**

But let's continue. Since I am a sexy Italian with charisma and all that, you would think we're in Italy, right?

But no, this time you're wrong. We're in Spain.

More specificallyin the capital of the country, in Madrid.

You'll say: "Oh, by God, Lovino Vargas, why are you in Madrid?" Well I'll answer you …

I'm in Madrid because my fucking useless younger brother has a fucking job in the fucking museum here. Museo del Prado* … or something like that**. **I think it was that hole in the wall.

When Feliciano the idiot turned fifteen, tons of offers for jobs began to arrive at the house. All of the companies in the fucking world seemed to be in love with my brother's art, and wanted to hire him, offering succulent salaries …

The places were some of the most diverse: Rome, Berlin, Madrid, Paris … even Tokyo, for the love of God!

The salaries were very good, but the best of the places were either too far (Tokyo, which offered 3000 a month, a huge bargain, but nah), or weren't recommended (Berlin, with 2500, not bad, but my brother wouldn't dare tread in that place), or a shit wage (Rome, 500 a month, close by, but not for that tiny amount of money).

We didn't know what to do until we saw Madrid's offer. They offered 2000 a month, a free apartment, and a constant guardian for the worker in case he was underage. This made my mother happy, yelling: "My son is going to be famous!" and all that shit.

At first Feliciano didn't want it, but after our parents promised to visit once a month and swore to him that the pasta in Spain was just as good as in Italy (fucking dreamers), he left in love.

Because of this we've been here for four years, give or take. Now we're both nineteen.

But think about it, fucker … The first work proposal … at fifteen years old? Isn't that child exploitation? It's true that angels from the damn heavens draw like shit compared to my brother, but … at fifteen! At fifteen years old, to a prestigious Madrilenian museum! Isn't that going a bit far? Fucking exploiters!

… And now is when you interrupt me to say: "But Lovino, that has nothing to do with you—your brother is your brother and you're you … What are _you_ doing in Madrid?"

Well okay … I would have stayed at home, but … one of the points of the contract had been something like this: "The parents or any other adult family members who could reduce the artistic spirit of the artist keep themselves away while the contract lasts." I wasn't going to leave Feliciano alone …

But don't think badly! I-it's not like I was worried for him or anything! It's not like I would feel horrible leaving him alone in an enormous and unfamiliar city without knowing anything of Spanish or life! It's not as if I was worried for him! For the love of the Pope, no!

I only did it because I was one hundred percent sure that if I left my idiot brother alone and without any type of supervision he was going to destroy not only his apartment, but the whole fucking building that he was supposed to live in.

Surely he would fall in the bathtub and fuck up some pipes.

And then there would be leaks.

And then leaks would wreck the building's base supports.

And then the building would really turn to shit.

And the bill that, of course, my parents would receive … which they would have to pay. Then I'd be the one who'd be kept closer.

I have more siblings, but the oldest, Desiderius, is in his Vatican City, locked up with God in his favorite church …

And Bianca, the youngest, has lived in England for twelve years, with this Arthur fellow …

So the one who would pay the price would be me, without a doubt. My mother would throw me out by the ears and pull out my curl …

Brrr, no, not my little curl … Old witch with bad milk, be gone!

SinceI was worried, definitely, that all this would happen, I went with my brother to supervise him. Only that.

Seriously, fucker, don't look at me like that! I'm telling you the truth!

… How am I doing?

… I'm unemployed.

What? Fucker, there's a recession! That retarded _Zapatero*_ made everything backwards! Now there's more unemployment than pigeons in the plazas! And believe me, there are loooots of pigeons. Lots and lots. And they eat the tourists who feed them only with seeds.

Anyway, since I was sixteen I've been searching for work. Yes, here it appears as though you can work at that age. At home I don't think so. I think. It didn't hurt to at least ask …

But I never find work. I don't understand why. Sure**,** I break the vast majority of the things I touch, don't do very many things well, and really, when it comes to interests, what interests me, I don't have many. But fuck … I'm really good at cooking, for example. And fashion. I have very good taste in clothes. It's something that the women love, right?

But no one wants me in their businesses. Well**,** perfect. Those _figli di puttana_ don't know what they're losing. I'll leave them to continue being bitter in their out of style dives with their vulgar customers, and I'll go searching for a real job. Fuck them. Seriously, fuck them. I hate them all. And you, too.

At that moment I heard the noise of the lock and jumped. Was it a thief who had cometo rob me of my collection of tomato plushies? … Shit, of course not. Thieves don't have the keys to the houses they attack … I think. I hope not.

… And I don't have any collection of tomato plushies, fucker! I said that … just to say!

"Vee~ _Fratello, sono qui! Stai in casa__?_" a fairly familiar voice sung happily.

Shit, it was only Feliciano. He arrived home early. I gave myself a stupid scare. I responded with a dry**,** "Hey, good-for-nothing."

"Ah … Hello, Lovino," said another voice, deeper, strong and disagreeable.

I froze. That voice … it couldn't be _him_, could it?

I waited patiently for the intruder to appear in the living room. The footsteps of the recently arrived resounded on the wood floor, some of them strong, others light. My younger brother's curl made an appearance in the doorway. House was already saying the last sentence of the episode:

"It's Lupus."

What a boss … but what's Lupus? A new and mutated type of cancer or something like that? No clue, I have no idea of medicine; I've never taken it and never will take it. It's not as though it matters to me. The series is already cool without my knowing it.

"_Fratello, Fratello!_ Do you know what happened today~?"

My brother, as loud as always, pounced on me while I was lying down so wonderfully. He fell on my stomach, crushing it cruelly. Although I tried to throw him off of me, I couldn't do a thing. I had to sit up on the couch in order to be able to deal him a pretty punch in the abdomen and reposition him away from me. Against the clingy love of Feliciano Vargas there are few things that triumph, least of all if you're peaceful.

"Get off of me, _cazzo!_ Your life doesn't interest me!" I shouted at him, not red in the face or anything. Blushing is for little girls.

"Vee~ _Fratello_, you're so cruel to me …" he whined, holding the pained area, curled up on the floor. I hit him hard. I'd won, for the record.

Then a big hand appeared to assist Feliciano, helping him up. The horror.

An enormous being, with a square head and more well built than Muscleman and all the super heroes in the world together. Horrible blonde hair and … German.

It was the macho-potatoes.

"Vee~ _Grazie_, Ludwig~," my brother thanked him, giving him something similar to a hug.

"Chi … Chigi!" I screamed for my life and hid myself behind the couch, lost in panic. "You damn bastard, what are you doing here? Feliciano, you idiot, you've let it follow you home, you fucking retard!"

"No, no, _Fratello_!" the numbskull interrupted me, moving his hands excitedly. "I invited him to eat!"

He delivered that sentence as if just like that it would solve everything. And while smiling sweetly and happily. As if instead of that thing, he had invited Britney Spears.

… My brother needs medication.

Gathering my courage, I stood up to my full height (a meter and seventy three, I believe), and, heroically, I confronted the meter and eighty tall German bastard.

"You! … Idiot! you're not doing anything here! Return to your German-Nazi hole, because I'm not going to allow you to eat in _my_ house! What's more, House has returned to say that it is Lupus, and it's all your fault, _maledizione__!_"

"Ehm … Then I'm very sorry …" he told me brusquely with a confused look.

Normally**,** I wouldn't dare to yell at the potato bastard, but since I've discovered that he never returns the attacks or insults to me, I have more bravery. And don't confuse yourself either. Of course the Lupus is his fault.

I'm sure the bastard's gone to the recording studios of the series, and with one of his hard and sharp potatoes threatened all of the scriptwriters to make it so eighty percent of the cases would be Lupus. Maybe because he, too, has Lupus, and likes to see others suffer.

You see? I'm a genius. I have logic on my side. I've discovered his damn plans! I'm a fucking national hero!

… Even though Feliciano didn't share my intelligent vision of crude reality.

"Vee~ _Fratello_, don't say those things … Ludwig is a good person … Today he defended me from _il capo_ Roderich and everything, vee~!"

(Roderich = The fucking forever alone Austrian in charge of the museum. He loves music, so I don't understand why the hell he's in charge of a museum, and not a fucking _auditorium_.)

"Look, Feliciano, basically what the macho-potatoes has done bores me massively. If I say he doesn't eat here, he doesn't eat here. I am the oldest and the one who knows what is best for you," I told him calmly in my secure position as the alpha male.

"V-ve~," my brother responded sadly, "but here the one who always gets the money and who normally makes the food is me!"

Bum.

That made me feel … unwanted. I began to notice a not at all pleasant pressure in my stomach, and a knot in my throat that was threatening to stifle me.

Normally it would just annoy you to know that you are a m-mooch … but when your little brother reprimands you, and throws the fact that he's the one putting money on the table every day in your face … It hurts. It hurts a lot. But I didn't lose my composure. I tried to settle into the couch again.

… Seriously … Where did the comfort from earlier go? Or better yet, how the hell was I sitting before? Now the thing was as uncomfortable as could be … Shit. It must be the fault of the macho-square-head. With him around every thing gets broken. Or maybe it was my brother's fault …

As it were, I sat up again, annoyed with the world. Yes, I was angry. All of my worry was being transformed into rage, as usual.

"Stupid brother! Who do you think is in charge here? _Me!_ Mom and Dad left me in charge and you have to obey me!"

I was already beside myself with anger. Even so, Feliciano's face was resolute and firm, and little by little I began to feel how my position as boss was lowering gradually, little … by little …

"_Fratello!_ I'm almost nineteen! I'm already ahead in caring for myself!" he said irately.

"How dare you say that?" I yelled. "You're a useless piece of shit!"

"Er … I don't want to be a bother, so …" The macho-potato recoiled slightly and left inch by inch from the living room, both embarrassed and uncomfortable. Yes! Finally he's leaving; finally he understood he isn't wanted!

I began to enjoy my victory, but my stupid brother held the German back by his arm. Damn him!

"No, Ludwig, stay!" he said determinedly. "I have to show my gratitude for your help in whatever way I can, and my brother can't stop me! You're _always_ wanted, so calm down! Ve~!"

An extreme fury overcame me, along with some kind ofhorrible hunger to beat something up. Did my brother seriously prefer his macho-potato to me?

"Chigi! Is that what you really think?" I howled.

"Vee! Yes, _Fratello_, I think that!" he challenged, the bastard.

"Well**,** then**,** perfect!" I laughed a Machiavellian laugh. "The bastard stays!"

I left for the hallway, hearing the stupefied "ve" of my younger brother as I went. I grabbed my bag, put the strap on, and returned to the living room. Feliciano was smiling like a mental retard. If this was a manga or anime, my brother would have those gay little lights and flowers that there usually were around content characters. But as this wasn't a manga/anime, there weren't any.

… Although**,** if you want, you can imagine that they _were_ there. Do what suits you, fucker. I won't stop you, okay?

"Vee~! Okay, if everything's all worked out, I'm going to make a good plate of carbonara. Ve, ve ve~."

"Do what you want, bastard. I'm leaving," I told him, offering a farewell gesture with my hand, (and it was pretty obscene, for sure).

"Vee~? You're leaving, _Fratello_? Where are you going?" The big idiot was surprised.

"I'm going wherever that German-macho-potato-square-headed bastard isn't!" I shouted at him.

I directed myself outside without lowering myself to even look at either of the two. I could hear a "Vee~ _Fratello! Aspetta!_" before opening the door. I ignored him. I yelled a pair of curses and a "Go to hell!" back at them before closing it. I gave a resounding, beautiful, and strong slam as I left, so strong that it could've been heard from the street.

Outside it was even hotter. I should have brought a bottle of water or something refreshing; I was melting like fucking ice cream … Although deep down it didn't really matter that much. The fire of hate inside of me was what I was most busy dealing with. The only thing I wanted in that instant was for them to both die. And for them to go to hell.

I was so angry I didn't even watch where I was going. The only place I didn't want to be was close to my building. I wanted to be away from those two bastards, the farther the better. I was moving forward as though the devil were following me, or worse, the very same Chuck Norris in person. Once in a while I would disagree with some people, of which some complained, others no.

I could have been crying … I could feel my heated cheeks and damp eyes …

A-and like hell I was crying! I don't cry! Only little girls cry! And I'm very manly, very macho. What's happening is … yeah … My rage is clouding my mind and making me believe things that aren't true, like that my eyes are wet, which is an extreme lie. Because they're not.

I continued running until I got lost within the framework of narrow streets. I just went on navigating the streets by luck until I found myself in an alley with no exit. A fucking very dark, very**,** _very_ narrow alley with no exit. Without any signs of life. Humans, at least.

"Chi … chigi … Where am I?"

I was beginning to really get worried about my whereabouts, when suddenly a quitedelicious smell reached me. What … What was that? It smelled like fried food, but sweet …

I turned to the wall. And saw … a very garish red and yellow door. I asked myself how I didn't notice it before … The smell seemed to come from inside. I've always known that it's not good to go into places you don't know, above all if they are foreign houses or French bachelor pads, so the possibility of going inside to investigate never occurred to me, for the record. No matter how good it smelled**,** I wasn't going to do it.

I would have left quickly, (and probably with a craving for sweets), if I hadn't read the little sign to the left of the door.

The sign said … said … _Merda_, what fucking shitty writing … It was as if it had been put in a hurry …

Oh, yes, I think I got it … It said …

"Café Spain"?

o.O.0.O.o

_Okay there we go! Finished … So leave me some advice, or if you'd like maybe a couple suggestions on how to better word things, seeing as I'm new to this whole translation business. _

_Jos__é__ Mota: Spanish comedian and actor and one half of the comedy duo "Cruz and Raya"_

_Zapatero: term for the Spanish president. _

_Translations: _

_Che palle: literally means "what balls" but is more of a what the hell or fuck you kind of thing. _

_Fratello: brother_

_Grazie: thank you_

_Sono qui. Stai in casa?: I'm here. Are you home?_

_Cazzo: fuck_

_Il capo: the boss_

_Figli di puttana: sons of a bitch_

_Maledizione: damn it_

_Aspetta: Wait_

_Merda: Shit_

_And that's all~!_

_Chibianimefreak out~_


	2. Antonio

_Okay, so here's chappy numero dos~ Hmm… Not much to say besides I finally went skiing this weekend (seeing as we FINALLY have snow NOT in October... I swear the weather is going crazy here in New England … gah…) and discovered my boots were too small, so by the second run my feet were COMPLETELY numb. And let me tell you, skiing with numb feet is VEEERY difficult. Yes. I survived though. Somehow. And got new boots~_

_Again, this is just a translation of an AMAZING story by the great Kaitogirl95 who has a couple other stories in both English and Spanish, in case you speak either (which would be weird if you didn't speak English and were here, but whatever…). But seeing as it is a translation, a few things may sound awkward, and there are a few cultural things (two in this chapter, I believe) which I have referenced below. Thanks~._

_Disclaimer: Not my story; Hetalia's not mine. Those credits go to Kaitogirl95 and Himamura respectively… grumble grumble… But hey, it's my birthday tomorrow so that'd be a nice present, hmmm? XD_

o.O.0.O.o

**ROMANO'S POV**

Now that I'm paying attention … But what shit is this? Why is there a … a … a type of café … here?

Please … this is a distant alley from the hand of God …

Who is the naïve moron who agreed to buy a business here? Surely he's bankrupting himself each day more! Not that I care, of course …

But anyways, I don't think that this was the kind of place to be full at the moment. No. I don't think anyone even knows of its fucking existence.

I only arrived here because I got lost … because I diverted slightly from the usual route, damn it. It's not as if I didn't pick up on it, fucker.

The sweet smell of fried food shamelessly returned to invade my lungs, and I felt my stomach rumble hungrily. It was two in the afternoon, bastard, of course I was hungry!

… But anyway … that dump appeared to be occupied … And the disgusting food that they surely made there didn't smell that bad … so … Why not give it a chance? The idiot Feliciano would never find me here, not even using _buscapersonas*_. And that was a point for the infernal dump. Better yet, I don't think my _fratello_ the chicken had the guts to go here.

Well then why the hell not?

I smiled, (a very small one, for the record. I don't smile), with superiority and pride, and decided to enter one damn time. I grabbed the doorknob carefully, and pulled hard.

The door didn't open.

…

Come on, don't fuck with me …

Why the fucking hell isn't it opening!

You could see the open sign with smiling tomatoes with an almost offensive clarity, damn it! What the hell is this? A conspiracy? Are all the doors of the world against me or something?

Well that I wasn't going to allow!

I pulled and pulled the door with rage. It was going to open like I was called Lovino Vargas.

I was doing this with the door when at that moment I pushed hard, enraged. And the door opened, causing a resounding sound.

…

Ah, it opened inwards … then it should say damn it! I was going to inform the owner of that stupid pain when I found him. How dare he confuse me like that?

So, with a grunt, I entered the shop.

o.O.0.O.o

**SPAIN'S POV**

Aaah~ How boring~ I wish I could sleep a little … but I have to make the food~ Churros, churros~ chu …

…

Oh, _hola_, how's it going? You're reading me? It looks like it … How great~! I didn't have any idea my life could be at all interesting for someone!

(Apart from, of course, my friends: Gilbert and Francis … They're very nice. They worry so much for me~. They're always trying to lend me a hand~. Like the other day … they brought me a stunning girl, very pretty … she told me that for one hundred Euros I could do whatever I wanted to her. Pity, I made very little money that day … because, eh, I would have loved to make her a bowl of gazpacho~*. She seemed so nice … I'm sure we would have been good friends if we had been able to strike up a decent conversation~. Although now that I think about it … if I'm the one making the food … the one to pay would be her … no? … This is all so confusing …)

Ah, but how rude of me! You're here, reading, and it didn't occur to me to do anything but tell you my life story without even introducing myself … I'm sorry, hehe~.

I'm Antonio. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. I'm twenty-seven years old, am pure-blood Spanish, and love sangria, churros, paella, gazpacho, flamenco … and tomatoes. I loooove tomatoes~. They're so red, and round, and are sooo delicious~! And by the way, I don't know if this will interest you, but in my room I have a precious little turtle. She's called Antonia! I named her~. She's a cute, cute, cute and cuuute little turtle~. And she's very bright … I think she understands me when I speak to her and everything.

Well … I would love to strike up conversation with you, but I don't believe I can do that. Pity, I was beginning to like you … Well, considering you're taking the trouble to continue reading here, I'll tell you some things about me. Although there's nothing much to say …

Well it was more or less time to eat … close to two in the afternoon. I was in my deserted café, sitting in my wooden seats, making paper geraniums, when my stomach wanted to make its hunger apparent.

…

Why paper flowers? Well, as the business is always empty, I don't make money, so as supplement I make them to sell in the _Puerta del Sol*_ … I have enough success with them~.

Though to tell you the truth, I don't know why no one ever comes here … I'm located in the perfect place! My little alley is narrow, silent … it has a romantic touch … and it's private, too. To me, personally, it seems like a treasure. But no one turns up here … why is that?

The only ones who come are my friends Gilbert and Francis, (I already mentioned them to you before, no? I think I did, yes…), and sometimes, very rarely, a very sweet blonde girl with a cat-like smile named Femke comes here with her older brother. I don't like him at all. On top of the fact that his tulip-styled hair defies all modes of being … he smokes too much. He fills the business with smoke, never orders anything costing more than two Euros, gives me dirty looks, badmouths me … and if he gets angry he destroys the tables … He's very tall and scary … not like the girl, who is so pretty, so nice, so cute, so feminine, so …

Ah, I think I'm rambling, hehehe~.

Like I said, my hungry stomach had made its appearance. Slightly, but it was there, the sensation of sharp emptiness in your stomach that the majority of times means you're hungry. Or appendicitis, maybe … though I've never had it, so I don't know …

I had to make the most of the fact that there wasn't anyone here and make myself food. What could I make? Paella? Nah … I have the strange custom of making paella only on Sundays and eating the leftovers (if there were any) the next day. But as today was Tuesday, it couldn't be … What do I make? It's not like I'm that hungry … And I feel like something sweet! I could make myself churros, for example!

How smart I am when I want to be, hehe~.

Well here I go … churros~ churros~ churros~. I set off towards the kitchen to begin, but suddenly remembered something.

My Antonia!

I had to give her food. The other day I bought some little peeled prawns for her that I'm sure she was going to love~. I bought them in the OpenCor, that place sure is good~ (if you don't know, it's a wonderful twenty-four hour convenience store). The owner is more than pleasant~. Every time I go she's there~. And although there are other clients, she always attends to me first~. It's a delight~. And what's more, I've noticed that she follows me with her eyes as I shop, how charming! That sure is good service~.

I love that they worry for me~!

I opened the refrigerator while softly singing my improvised churro song and searching for the prawns. Let's see … tomatoes, tomatoes … onions, peppers, tomatoes … tomatoes, tomatoes, chicken, tomatoes … dough for churros, butter, tomatoes, tomatoes …

Ah! There they are, between the tomatoes~! In a cute little bag with the drawing of a deer with a scarf~!

I grabbed them and went to the floor above, where my home was.

Ah, okay, explanation of that … Well I live above the café. The two floors are connected … the lower area is what I call the "work zone" and is where … where … well, where I work. And the upper area is my "home," which is where I sleep, bathe, read, watch TV …

Although, since clients almost never come, I'm beginning to take more liberties, like bringing down the television, eating on the tables, even sometimes sleeping below. What's more, I've assembled a kind of garden of real geraniums, in their little pots …

I think I'm mixing up the surroundings too much … I should organize …

…

… Some day.

Okay … well now I'm going my bedroom. I would prefer that no one besides my friends, Gilbert and Francis, see it … It's a disaster … But what can you do … At least you will have to see it, no?

Well … my room is pretty small … though it's not like my house is very big either. But it's comfortable, and that's what's important~.

I have very few things, but it's enough for me. I have clothes full of tables … I mean~, a table full of clothes, in the left corner of my room.

It's a table from Germany. Gilbert gave it to me when I moved here~. It's a very robust little table, and very beautiful, with big enough drawers. Gil says that they're to keep beer cans, but I don't drink from those … I drink much more wine, like Francis, but the bottles of wine don't all fit in there, and anyways I'm not someone who eats in my room, so I only use them to keep clothes.

Across from the table, occupying almost all of the room, I have a huuuge~ red bed, a gift from Francis. It's a very fluffy, springy, and soft bed. I loved this present~ as I love Francis~. Right now the bed is covered in my clothes, and in my friends' clothes, who sometimes come here to sleep … at night we three all get into it together, (we fit with room leftover), and talk of our things … Gilbert about how awesome he is, Francis of his one night stands, and me of how bad work is going~.

I remember what Francis said to me when he gave me the bed. He said, "Tonio, _mon ami_, this is for when you have a little flower in your life. Only then will you be able to give it the use it deserves."

Francis … I don't understand you.

What is it you want exactly? That I put flowers in my bed? That I sleep with flowers? By little flower … are you referring to the geraniums in my little pots?

Francis is really mysterious …

Ah, but don't think that I only have that~. Noo~. I have an armoire built into the floor. Now it's empty because all of my clothes are on the ground … but it was all together before, when I changed clothes … later it began to lose them~ … I need a maid.

And finally, in what's left of the room, I have small and elongated chest of drawers. Within which I keep … or rather kept … more clothes. And above the table is where I put my dear little Antonia and her … _OH DIOS MIO_!

…

Where Antonia's tank was supposed to be there was only a pile of jeans!

I shouted the name of my adorable little pet while carefully removing the clothes covering the furniture.

I found my little turtle upside down in the middle of her cute mini pond. With her eyes closed.

"Oh _Dios_! Antonia! Antonia, please say something!" I yelled desperately, giving her little touches on her turtle head with my index finger.

It was then when she opened her eyes, swung herself around and righted herself. She looked at me reproachfully. She was alive! Thank the heavens! And oh God, she was so cute~.

"Antonia, you don't know how happy I am that you're okay~ I'm sorry, next time I'll be more careful~.

"Humi, humi, humi," she responded with an adorable, smooth and shrill little voice.

"Yes, you're right … I have to organize~. One day, ahahaha."

"Huuuumi …" She appeared angry.

"Yes, yes, I'll start … the coming week, or more or less. How does that seem to you?"

"Humii, humi, hum …"

"Yes, yes, I know I have time now … But I can't be bothered … Come one, I'll tell Francis and Gil to help me next time they come, okay?"

"Hiuum~."

"Good … Look what I brought you~!" I showed her the little prawns.

I think she liked them. I'm saying this because she didn't stop following them with here eyes, moving her little head with longing, as if she wanted me to give them to her already. Cuuute~. I divided the prawns into little pieces and offered them to her. She ate them eagerly … I think she was really hungry~.

Okay, well now that Antonia has eaten, it would be a good idea to go make myself food. I told her "enjoy your meal" and left the room in the direction of the kitchen. Once there, I took out the ingredients necessary from the refrigerator and set to cooking.

For anyone who doesn't know: I make churros by hand. I prefer to make them as opposed to the pre-fried packaged ones … Those taste a little like plastic. What's more, what's more~ if I make them I can use extra cinnamon~! And that is what I was going to do today~!

"Churros~, delicious churros~, delicious churros, churros~, ay!" I sang softly.

[Note: Insert here the melody of the song "Oishii Tomato no Uta". I changed the lyrics to adapt it for Tonio, but the melody is the same xDDD]

Okay, now I was only lacking listening to the pleasant melody of the frying of the churros. With the oil already hot, I laid them in the frying pan. I made too many … two people could eat …

But I didn't care, because when the house was permeated by the sweet smell of fried food, I became really hungry. I think I could eat them all~.

I was drooling, thinking of the binge I was going to go on, when the sound of a strong knock coming from the entrance reached me. I separated the then already golden churros and pricked my ears. Maybe it wasn't anything, only my imagination …

But no. There was that sound again.

Intrigued, I neared the entrance. A shadow on the other side of the door seemed to be struggling to enter. It said some pretty strong words while knocking and knocking. But if the door opened inwards …

… one moment.

Maybe this one was … the gas man!

…

Of course! That's why he didn't know how to open the door! Those guys were used to opening out! Or at least I'd heard …

Then … he came to collect the money from me!

Nooo!

I couldn't allow it. I had a family to maintain.

I neared the door sloooowly, with the intention of turning the lock before he figured out how to really open the door.

And just when I went to do it, the door opened all of a sudden, hitting me in the face.

o.O.0.O.o

_Notes:_

_buscapersonas: a website where you can find people_

_Puerta del Sol: one of the busiest plazas in Spain_

_Cliff hanger, no? XD_

_Okay, so I think it should be evident, but I'm gonna try and update every Monday, seeing as those are usually mostly free. Now that vacation is over, though, I suddenly have much less time between pit band rehearsals, practicing for my all-state audition, midterms in a week, a research paper due in a couple weeks, CAPT testing coming up, studying for my AP exam, and for my SAT 2 in bio… basically passing school in general… not sure how much time I'll have seeing as I am a bit lazy… But I already have through chapter four and part of chapter five done, and though they prob need to be edited, it should be fine… _

_BUT HEY you know what's awesome? I turn 16 tomorrow, and you now what that means? DRIVING! YESH! Hehe, I'm a bit excited, can you tell? XD You guys will all leave me reviews as a present, right~? _

_Chibianimefreak out~_


	3. The Gaulking Dead

_Okay, first off, sorry for not updating last week. It was a weird week between the snowdays and exams coming up, so I kind of lost track of which days were which and ended up forgetting I needed to post until like Wednesday. But I think I'll start posting more every other week or so to give kaitogirl95 some room with updates~. But to make it up to you guys, I'm posting a day early~. _

_Disclaimer: Neither this story nor hetalia is mine, this is just a translation. _

o.O.0.O.o

**ROMANO'S POV**

Very good. It's been a while since we've seen each other, huh bastard? You've returned to annoy me, eh? … Well welcome. Make yourself comfortable and read while I curse your ancestors.

Well … remember last time you read me? I was about to enter a shitty café. And I fought heroically with the evil door in order to be able to enter. You remember, right? The door opened inwards and I entered … okay, up until there. I'm sure you're asking yourself what happened from that moment on. Well I'll tell you.

Now I have to flee the country. Yes, it's just as you read, I have to escape from here, the sooner the better, understand? Because … well …

Before me there's a man. Sprawled on the floor. Unmoving.

There's blood leaking from his mouth and nostrils.

Lots of blood.

He's not moving. He's completely static.

… I think he's dead.

… I killed him.

That's why I have to flee, damn it! Life is too sweet and I'm too hoy to die in jail! My parents would be very disappointed in me! And Feliciano would surely cry and make a fuss! And I would die with regrets, disgust, and embarrassment for having killed a man! Surely he was a good person! And maybe he was going to be married, with sons and would have had many people who loved me! I don't have pardon in the eyes of God!

… But calm down, Lovino. Calm down. Maybe he's not dead. Maybe the hard hit just knocked him out. Or maybe it killed him … in order to make me panic. Of course, I'm sure he wants to take revenge because I hit him with his precious door and died in order to scare me. He'll be a bastard … I have to check.

I hit him with my foot. Carefully, just in case.

There was no reaction.

"Fucker, let's see if you're really dead … god damn it," I grumbled.

I hit him harder, calling him. Perhaps he would recognize human voices and that would make him return from the Great Beyond.

"Eh … bastard." I called him bastard because I didn't have any idea what his name was, for the record. Don't think that I call everyone that just because. "Hey! Are … Are you okay?"

Without any type of response. I began to really panic. I looked around in search of someone would could help me a little. But it was empty. Like I was hoping for any fucking thing anyways. Fuck.

I took his heartbeat as a last resort. I supported my hand on his chest, trying to find a heartbeat.

I didn't find it.

…

It seems like he wasn't playing dead.

"Fuck! Damn it! Shit … And now what do I do?" I despaired, and began to walk in circles around myself. "Fleeing the country wouldn't be sufficient … I have to flee from Europe! The countries in the damn European Union all help each other … I have to go to another continent! To America! Or to Asia! Or worst case scenario, to Africa! Shit … I don't want to, damn it! I like my house a lot!"

Well, there I was, talking about my escape plans out loud. That's real smart, mister. If someone were listening to me at that moment, he would know about my intention to flee. And then I would have to kill him also so he wouldn't give me away … Which would make me a double murderer … And that would be much worse!

Eh, enough of despairing myself. There aren't even flies here. If I calm myself down I'll be able to think composedly. Let's see … I'm sure no one comes here ever, so I have time to devise a plan … What could I do with the body?

I looked around for something to help me. I noticed especially a wardrobe in the corner of the room. Hmm … maybe …

Yes, definitely.

I grabbed the dead man under his arms and dragged him to the wardrobe. I opened the door and struggled to fit him within. But now that I could see what I was doing … This thing was too small to fit him inside. I could maybe fit inside if squeezed really tight, but this bastard was bigger than I … not much, for the record. I'm not a midget! I'm a meter seventy-four, more or less!

What could I do now … maybe if I cut him in pieces … Agh, no! What the hell am I thinking? No way! Fucking disgusting! I'll simply leave him across the counter and I'll leave here like the wind.

I began to drag him there, but something stopped me. The supposed corpse began to emit groans. I dropped him, completely frightened. Upon hitting the floor, a strangled moan was heard.

"FUCK! A damn zombie!" I screamed, hiding myself behind the counter.

Warning.

Don't think badly. It's not like I was scared. It's not like I was contrary. I was only looking for a weapon to defend myself with. If it infected me I would be a zombie too, so I needed to protect myself with what there was and finish him. I know very well; I saw it in a very good series "The Galking Dead" or something like that … I think it was called that, no?

Let's see … what weapons were here … Tomatoes? That wouldn't work … They could be effective, but … it would be a waste of food. I could try using … shirts? What the hell, that wouldn't work either … plastic cups? Nope …

Fuck, there's nothing useful here to defend myself with in case of a zombie apocalypse … but … wait …

Is that a Nokia?

… Fucking perfect. I grabbed it and prepared myself to attack.

He got up. I could see how he was wobbling a little, and grabbing his head with his hand. He groaned low in his throat. It set me on edge. With his whole face covered in blood …

Although if you look more closely … He didn't really look like a zombie … I mean, look at him, he was … self-controlling. He was bleeding and all of that, but …

Ah, no, Lovino, no. It could have been a recent conversion and because of that he was self-controlling. The issue is that he had no pulse. He had to be dead. And if he was moving while dead … He could only be a zombie. I grabbed the phone more tightly, preparing to leave and jump him.

The being from hell covered his face with his hand, murmuring things I couldn't understand. I went to attack him … when right then …

"Ayyy … That hurt … What happened?" he murmured.

Okay, he wasn't a zombie. Zombies don't talk, that I know.

Lightening up for the most part, I left from my hiding place. But I didn't let go of the Nokia. I still couldn't explain the pulse.

"Eh, you, are you alive?" I asked. Maybe the question was a bit obvious … But more than anything I wanted him to notice my present.

And he noticed.

I've never seen anyone enter into such a state of panic. Well … except Feliciano. A slight noise and the man's done. He dragged himself to me, crying and screaming strange things. Oh, and all of this while bleeding. (It looked like he had opened his wounds again…) It was very bone chilling.

"No! Don't shut me down! Please, I swear to you I'll pay the gas next month. I sweeear!"

Ah, and what's more it looked like he had confused me with the gas man. Fucking idiot. But anyways, I had to sort out the misunderstanding, or end up covered in tears and blood.

And my new Armani pants did not want that.

"Okay, good for nothing, here it is! I'm not the gas man, fucker, so let go of me!" I yelled at him, shaking my leg to get him to let go of my pants.

"I'll do whatever you want as long as you don't confiscate me! Please! I'm…! Eh? You're not the gas man?"

This bastard was slow to pick up on things. I nodded carefully, maintaining visual contact to help him understand me better.

The guy in question raised himself from the ground with a sigh of relief. He smoothed his apron and smiled. It would have been a pretty smile if his entire mouth hadn't been stained with blood … puah. So I told him that.

"Bl … blood?" His tanned skin paled slightly as he touched the wounded place. "Ah, true, true! Excuse me for a second!"

He went to the sink and began to wash his face. He passed it under the tap for a moment and, once clean, put cotton balls in his nose. It was a fucking strange image.

"Excuse me, eh?"

"You're a bastard. I thought you were dead," I said, accusing. "I even took your heartbeat and you had none?"

"What?!" He was startled.

He immediately put his hand on the left side of his chest.

"_Sí_, I have one~. Don't scare me like that, _por favor_ …"

"Ah …" Shit, it was the left side where you take the heartbeat? That's why I hadn't found it; I did it on the right … "W-well, whatever, for a second you had no pulse!"

"Ahahaha, something strange happened …"

He was laughing for approximately a minute. I tried to hide my confusion. Fuck, I watched House so much and I still didn't know where to take a pulse …

"And …" he began to say with a smile stretching from ear to ear, definitely beautiful, I was right, "what have you come for exactly?"

… Yes, he was definitely an idiot.

Okay, I would respond with sarcasm but I wasn't in the mood so … Hell, of course I was.

"I've come to rob you, bastard, can't you tell?

"Oh. Go," he answered slowly, calm. "Well, I don't have much, but you can take what you want, I don't have anything valuable … except my collection of tomato plushies … although the value of those is sentimental, so I'd be grateful if you didn't take those, and …"

Oh, God, he took me seriously. Mental note: don't speak to this bastard with sarcasm again. I have to stop him and … Just a minute, did he say collection of tomato plushies?

"No, idiot, it was a joke." I gave him a dirty look. "I came to eat, damn it. What else would you come to do in a café if not that?"

"Ah, lucky me, I thought you were serious and … oh, wait … that would make you … a customer!"

He face lit up. His green eyes shone more than the fucking lights in the ceiling. And … the next minutes passed too quickly for my mind to capture one hundred percent. I only remember having been taken by the shoulder and sat at one of the seats.

"You don't know how happy I am that you came! It's been a long time since anyone came! I'm soooo happy!"

And that was the only coherent sentence I understood. After leaving here, he slipped over to the counter, grabbed I don't know what while speaking at the speed of light, and now you're looking at me, completely disturbed, with a shirt that wasn't mine. A white shirt that read "¿Por qué no te callas?" My other shirt was folded in a bag that was now on the table. A bag from I don't know where.

Wait …

If I was now wearing a shirt that wasn't mine … that meant that bastard had undressed me … right?

Fuck …

When did he do that?

"Okay, now I'll serve you something!" He directed himself to the kitchen with supersonic speed, but he stopped midway. "Ah, but because I don't have many customers I only have instant coffee like I drink. You don't care, right?"

Something within me broke.

"Fuck! Now I'm pissed!" I yelled with all my strength. The guy got frightened.

"Whoa! What's wrong, _señor__ cliente_? The coffee isn't to your taste?"

"You put me in an absurd shirt! You're speaking too fast for human understanding! And above all you have the balls to serve me a fucking instant coffee! Fuck yourself a moment and bring what smells so good here!"

There was a dense silence. I was angry and had relieved a great part of my ire with this damn bastard, but I simply had to say it. This is a crime.

"Ah … I'm sorry … It's just that I was very nervous and excited~. As you're the first customer of the month, I'm giving you too much attention."

"You can swear that you did give me too much … wait a second, did you say of the month?"

"_Sí_~!"

My jaw dropped to the floor in shock. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I mean … I was the first of the month? But it was the twenty-sixth of July! What the hell?! I understand his happiness.

But that doesn't mean it allows him to do that, damn it.

"I'm … happy for you, bastard. Now give me food. And if you're lucky, I'll pay you and everything."

"Hmmm~. The truth is that what smelled so good is my lunch … but okay, it's not important, I can share them with you~."

And he left for the kitchen, whistling something, content as a sandboy*. While he wasn't there, I took advantage of it by poking around.

The place wasn't so bad, looking around. Cleaner than what you would hope from a hole in an alley. Although the furniture, I have to admit, was a little old. The wooden floor, the wooden walls … It had the appearance of being a place that would burn well … Well, let's leave my pyromaniac thoughts for the moment … I was able to observe that there were enough pots with … geraniums, I think they were. Yes, that's what they were. And everything was fairly organized. Too organized. It looked like he didn't use too much … But anyway, everything was organized. If there were more people inside it would be a pleasant place. The only thing that was suspicious to me was that huge pile of paper flowers that were all over the far table. Seriously, it was a huge pile. There could have been more than three hundred flowers.

"_Señor cliente_, here are your churros~."

Oh, the idiot had returned. He was carrying a gigantic plate of churros in his hand, like a waiter, and a tomato in the other. He put the plate down pretty smoothly on the table and put the tomato on my head.

"Don't call me '_Señor cliente'_, imbecile. It sounds terrible. My name is Lovino," I told him, annoyed, as I took the tomato off my head.

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry. I just didn't know your name." He smiled at me. "I'm Antonio. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, so you know."

"No one asked you your name, bastard," I said, grabbing a churro. But he ignored me.

"Careful or you'll burn yourself," he advised me. "And the tomato is on the house."

As if I cared. I've eaten things that have burned more than these churros. But if they burned a little … The bastard watched me as I ate. I began to feel creeped out. And then he said it.

"Hey … Would you mind if I call you Lovi? It's cuter, and suits you better~."

I think …

I think this time I'm going to really kill him.

o.O.0.O.o

_Notes:_

_Señor cliente: mister customer_

_Content as a sandboy: an expression, self-explanatory I think. _

_So they meet! Dun dun dun! _

_And now back to reviewing for my AP Bio exam… It counts for almost half my quarter grade! Kill me now!_


	4. Ludwig

_Yes I know this is about a week late, but I was very stressed about my all-state audition for band (which I made by the way!) and as such didn't have quite so much time as I would have liked. _

_But today there is a huge blizzard rolling in which is supposed to leave about two feet of snow so I have no school and therefore no responsibilities! YAY! _

_Disclaimer: Again, this story is not mine, it was written by Kaitogirl95, and incredible writer, and I am only translating this. Nor do I own Hetalia or any of the characters used in this fic!_

o.O.0.O.o

**GERMANY'S POV**

The truth is I don't have a very clear idea of how to think of the younger of the two Vargas brothers. I'm still not used to him. Every day he gives me a new surprise. My brother says it's because Feliciano is Italian … Maybe he's right.

I remember the first time we saw each other … If you're free and you want me to tell you about it, I'll will.

I was aware of his presence four years ago. It was winter. Seven in the evening. I was at home, calm, reading Marx. The snow outside fell smoothly, but in great quantity, judging from the view offered to me by my curtain-less window. My dog, a German shepherd, was sleeping peacefully at my feet, and the fire of the fireplace crackled with a calming sound. Yes. It was a warm, agreeable, and above all calm atmosphere.

Or so I thought … For a moment later the peace was broken by an annoying intrusion. My brother Gilbert.

"Weeeeeeest! West, West, West! The awesome me is here! I bring great news; you'll see when I tell you!"

Faced with such a racket, the dog awoke and began to bark disgustedly. I, resigning myself to the fact that the peace was over, marked the page I was on, the one hundred and thirty seventh, with a red bookmark. I was certain he wasn't going to let me read.

My brother burst into the living room, exuberant. The yellow chick that was always with him was in the same mood, it seemed. My albino evening-ruiner was covered in snow, as was the hood of his jacket and his shoulders. I got rid of some of the snow with my hand. I wondered what he'd been doing to end up like this. Maybe he'd spent some time in the street without moving, or something … But it was Gilbert, and you could never be sure of what he'd been doing exactly.

"_Bruder_ …" I began to say to him, "before anything, calm down. And then tell me what happened."

"You're not going to believe it!" he began to speak very rapidly. "Today I went to the museum for a bit, because I heard there was an awesome exhibit about some bird paintings or something like that… Though in the end it was a lie, but anyways… When I found out it was a lie I went to piss off that rotten guy for a bit! And what I saw! Kesesesesesesesesese!"

[Note: he's referring to Roderich, or Austria.]

I sighed.

"I told you to stop annoying people without reason …"

"_Ja_, West! But he isn't just any person, he's an aristocrat!"

"Ugh…" I huffed, resigned from convincing him to have better behavior. I've never been able to cope with my brother's excessive confidence and certainty, anyways. I have no idea how Elizaveta can bear him, as she spends three quarters of the day with him normally.

"But anyway, West…" he continued, "Now that you've begun working at the museum surely I can enter whenever and wherever I want. So, after messing with the guy, who, of course, was wearing horrible clothes and nothing awesome, I got myself into the staff lounge and…" I shot him a disapproving look that made him back down with his enthusiasm some. "And… D-don't look at me like that, West… It's not like I killed anyone… Nothing's wrong…"

"You entered a lounge available only and exclusively for authorized personnel… And you tell me that nothing's wrong?"

My brother thought for a second. Literally. Afterwards he returned to being as energetic as before.

"_Nein!_ Calm down, West! No one told me I couldn't go in, so nothing's wrong! Ah, but listen! Guess what I found upon when I got into the lounge?"

"Ah… what?" I asked fearfully.

"A kid working! I don't think he was even sixteen! And he tells me he's a new painter! Kesesesese! I had no idea the aristocrat was a pedophile!"

And there I was. Watching as my brother at my supposedly pedophilic boss. He had no remedy. But I have to say that the matter did intrigue me a bit. Maybe there really was a case of child exploitation? That would be a pretty grave crime…

I would investigate it my next workday.

The following Monday. Eight in the morning.

I found myself within the museum, sending off the one whose turn it was for the night watch, Alfred F. Jones. He was half dead with sleep, but well enough to get himself to the burger place on the corner. He told me he needed to replenish his "vital hamburgenergy." What a strange guy.

Well, the fact was I had the whole day ahead of me, and work pending, so it wasn't until eleven that I decided to confirm my brother's words.

When my alarm clock marked the hour exactly, I decided to slip cautiously away from my work desk. It would only take a few minutes. The truth is I couldn't deal with the curiosity. I set off to the lounge in question, which, of course, I _was_ authorized to enter. I never came here because I never needed anything here. I never left my desk to grab something to eat between hours, like others did. I didn't have to go to the bathroom. If I wanted to eat, I ate in a restaurant or went to my house, because I live nearby and could.

So I never went in. But now I was going to.

And it was that day exactly, a Monday at exactly eleven thirty in the morning. It was exactly then that I met Feliciano Vargas.

I opened the door carefully, in case I was discovered. Maybe it was a secret and I shouldn't see who was within…

And… well… There I was.

My first impression of him was good.

I saw a dark-skinned boy; too young to be working, that yes, sitting on a stool with an expression of concentration of his face, but at the same time seeming relaxed. He gave off an air of purity and tranquility. He was painting carefully with blue paint on a canvas, which already had a beautiful painting of a landscape. I watched him as he moved the paintbrush so naturally it looked as though he'd been born with one.

He seemed serious and hard-working enough to be able to work as something like a painter at his age.

He didn't seem to notice my presence. I got a bit closer, entranced by the drawing he was doing. It was really beautiful.

Upon closing the door he seemed to realize I was there. He turned his head to see who it was.

"Ve~ Who is it?"

He watched me. I watched him. I got a bit closer, with the intention of greeting him, but his reaction was unexpected. He went from watching me with much attention to wearing an expression of total horror, going from intrigue to surprise.

"V… Veeeee!" he yelled so loudly I don't know how I didn't go deaf. He gripped the paintbrush with such strength that his knuckles went white, and he seemed about to cry. "I… I'm doing the work in an efficient manner! So please don't hit me!"

I remember that I found it quite hard to calm him. He seemed convinced that I was thug who came to force him to work more quickly than he could, and stuff like that. I was trying for more or less an hour to convince him that I was a coworker in charge of the security of the building…

When that fact was clear, we could speak normally. It seemed they weren't making him work against his will or anything like that. He was only a boy who was good at painting, had received an offer for work and had decided to accept it. Nothing more. I wasn't too convinced of the legality of the matter, but Feliciano's innocent smile kept me quiet. I think that at the end of the day I even began to seem like a good person to him and everything.

After that day we would speak whenever we could, sometimes about work, sometimes about painting, sometimes about us. I liked him immediately, if I'm to be sincere. He was a bit stupid, but I helped him every time he needed. When I had problems, he helped me as well, although those situations weren't so frequent. Time passed, and… I believe that some weeks after meeting him I could already begin to consider him… my best friend.

And that brings us to today. In actuality. I continue not knowing how to define everything about the Italian. I couldn't tell if he was stupid or intelligent, if he was strong or weak, if he was useful or useless. Every time I began to opt for one or the other, something would happen that made me see him in a totally different way. And if I really think about it, Feliciano knows lots of things… He knows lots of things about painting, history, art in general… He's a very pure person, and you could see it reflected in his marvelous art. What's more, his cooking was also amazing. He's a person you like immediately.

But…

That doesn't mean that the majority of the time he's not messing things up. He doesn't know how to tie his shoelaces, for example. They always come undone and I have to redo them. And he's always asking for my help with everything, including for the most absurd things, like reading a part of a newspaper article that he didn't understand very well… What's more, in the beginning he didn't understand Spanish very well, and I had to teach him a little. He gets lost easily and he's always flirting with every girl he finds. Though I don't know how he's never gotten a girlfriend… Something must be wrong with the Spanish… Because Feliciano was not what you'd call ugly. He's very handsome. I would judge him as an attractive person… But I'm getting off topic. Ah, yes. Another of his flaws is that when it's his turn to clean, though he does it well, he always ends up breaking something. And that drives the boss crazy.

Like this morning. We were close to the hour of closing for noon. There weren't any more visitors in the museum. Mr. Edelstein had given Feliciano a broom and put him to cleaning. From my desk I could hear the sound of something breaking.

"VARGAS! Feliciano Vargas, I want you to explain this to me! You useless idiot!"

"Vee! Boss Roderich, I'm sorry!"

I got closer to confirm what had happened. And… well… A fine porcelain Ming vase was on the floor in pieces, next to Feliciano with a broom. I don't think I need to explain anymore in order for you to understand the situation. The boss was letting off sparks.

"Useless! This vase was worth three years of your salary! How could you break it?!"

"VEE! Three years?!" It looked as though he was going to have a heart attack or something. "I'm sorry!"

I sighed, pained. I would like to help him, but… He broke it; there was nothing to be done. I examined the broken vase regretfully. A piece like that was sure to cost a lot… of money…

… One… One moment…

"Th… this… Boss, excuse me a second…" I interrupted the scolding a minute. "There's something that…"

"And now what do you want, useless?!" he yelled at me.

"This…" I began, "That vase was made in China, right?"

Since the boss was too angry to think clearly, Feliciano responded.

"Vee~ Exactly, Ludwig, the Ming were Chinese. Why are you asking?"

"It's just… There, engraved on piece of the vase, is written 'Made in Korea.'"

The boss' face was priceless at that moment.

It seemed the vase was a counterfeit. One of the restorers of the museum had changed the real vase for that one and until now no one had discovered it. But it was thanks to Feliciano that it was discovered, so they paid him a little extra for his services. I also received a small bit of money, so I can't complain. We were in the doorway of the museum, counting our money, as the police arrested the restorer, Yong Soo. Korean. He was fighting against the policemen, trying in vain to free himself, yelling things in his language.

"_Ingeo nwa!_ Everything comes from Korea, so that vase isn't a fake! _Dongsaeng aaa! Dowajuseyooo dazeee!_"

Another tall Asian with a long ponytail was wishing him goodbye from the doorway with a red handkerchief. He didn't seem the least bit alarmed by the arrest of his coworker. Rather he seemed calmed. Strange…

"Ludwig~ Vee~ Thank you so much. If not for you, I might have been fired~."

He looked at me with the sweetest smile that… well, a huge smile.

"It… It wasn't any great thing… I only read what was written…"

"Vee~. None of that." He let out a little laugh. "Ah! I know! I have to show my gratitude somehow, so I'm inviting you to eat at my house~."

"What?!" I became alarmed. "That… That's not necessary! You don't need to, really."

I'm sure his brother would be home, so I tried to refuse to go.

Lovino Vargas.

Him I did know how to define. He was a bit of a lazy person, and almost more stupid than Feliciano. He seemed to hate Germans, for some reason unknown to me. And what's more, he hated me more than the Jews do Hitler. As if I was a demon or something… Other than that, he refused to call me by my human name. He's always insulting me or calling me offensive names. Though I don't much care. I can stand the bad language… And he seemed to do it to the whole world, so I feel less marginalized.

"Vee~ Let's go, Ludwig… Come ooon~," Feliciano continued insisting.

The young man hugged my arm, smiling happily. I blushed a bit; everyone who came this way would see us. I tried to remove him, but there was no way. It's difficult to free yourself from a hug from Feliciano Vargas. He only released me when I agreed to go to his house.

Though once there the situation, as I had feared, wasn't very good. Lovino wasn't happy to see me at all. He began to swear while insulting us both. He got tangled up in what appeared to be a fight of dominance with his little brother, which he seemed to lose. Frustrated and furious, he left through the door, closing it was a bang, leaving Feliciano and me alone.

I felt uncomfortable.

"Vee… My _fratello_ went a little too far… I'm sorry, Ludwig, I didn't want you to have a bad time…" Feliciano said, upset.

"Don't worry, it's not important. I'm used to that kind of thing… The other day he even tried to execute I don't know what plan of revenge against me, which consisted of putting a fake mustache on me from a distance or something like that…"

"Veeeh~ Hahaha, I don't understand very well, but okay~." He smiled. "Okay, I'm going to make a tooon of pasta!"

He quickly disappeared through the door to the kitchen, singing under his breath a song that seemed a little familiar…

[Note: the song is "Let's Boil Hot Water!"]

I sat down on the couch. The television that Lovino had been watching before we arrived continued on. A new episode of House was starting.

I don't like House.

Well… That's not the right term. It doesn't disgust me, but… Every time my brother sees it, it inspires him a lot. And well… I'm not saying it's not interesting to watch doctors curing Lupus and other sicknesses… You learn something about medicine that way. But what I can't stand is that afterwards my brother tries to cure me/my dog of cancer or something similar armed with a kitchen spoon. So in my home watching House is prohibited.

But there was nothing stopping me from watching it here. So I passed some ten minutes or so watching TV. They had already given three different diagnoses for the same patient, all three wrong. If this guy doesn't make up his mind…

I began to wonder if it would be a better idea to go help Feliciano with the food… But if we figure in the fact that the only thing I know how to prepare is wurst or dishes that include potatoes as the main ingredient… I would be more of a nuisance than anything. So I waited.

Not long after that thought, I could hear a sound coming from behind me. A shadow covered part of my figure, and when I looked up I found myself face to face with the young Italian.

"…Veee~." He was looking at me with a dazed expression.

"Did something happen?" I asked him. "Have you finished? Can I help you set the table?"

I was awaiting an answer to that. But I didn't receive one. Feliciano continued watching me for a good time longer, with the same expression. I was going to say something, when he quickly lowered his head and gave me a kiss on the forehead. I definitely hadn't expected that.

"Fe… Feliciano?" I said, blushing and surprised.

He seemed to take a bit to realize what he had just done. When he returned to himself, he went as red as I. Or even more so. He spun around and began to laugh nervously.

"V… Vehehehehe… Excuse me, Ludwig… It's just that you were in range to do that…"

"What… what kind of pretext is that, Feliciano?" I asked, surprised by his sudden act.

"Could you help me set the table?"

"Eh… Ah… I… Sure…"

I followed him to the kitchen, hand covering the kissed place, immersed in complete astonishment. I had never done anything like that… Was it that he was beginning to be more familiar now? That could have many good points… but… but also bad ones, of course.

What I knew for sure is that much more time was going to have to pass before I'd be able to define Feliciano Vargas.

o.O.0.O.o

_Translations:_

_Brunder: Brother_

_Ja: Yes_

_Nein: No_

_Yay fourth chapter done! This is actually one of the chapters I already had translated before vacation as well, but then since it had been so long and I'd forgotten where I'd had trouble and wanted to go back and double check so… Yeah I redid it… :D_

_Chibianimefreak out~ _


	5. Second Impressions

_Yay here I am again with another chapter translated~ I just got back from my house on Cape Cod (CUS IT WAS SCHOOL VACATION W00T) and was bored so I read back over this and edited it a bit and decided to post it~. _

_Disclaimer: The original story is the property of Kaitogirl95, not moi, and Hetalia belongs to Himamura, again not moi. Sorry…_

o.O.0.O.o

**ROMANO'S POV**

Hey, bastard. So we meet again. This time I have something interesting to tell you, yes sir, I do. He's verbally harassed me. What do you think? Is that interesting enough for you?

Because it's really happened to me. He's called me "cute" and "adorable" and other things like that. Does that count as an insinuation? I think so. And I had to defend myself, of course, I didn't want to end up violated. With what?

Well… Remember the Nokia from chapter three? I defended myself with that. A hit right to the head. _Capisco_?

…

Well, I hope this story seems credible to the judge when this guy reports me for aggression. Because I think that's what happened.

But really…

Flashback:

"Do you mind if I call you Lovi? It's more adorable~."

"What… What did you just call me, bastard?"

"_Adorable~_! It's what you are, really, you're very cute~!"

End of Flashback.

After _that_, who the hell would be surprised they'd been hit? I let out a loud "chigi" and hit him on the head with the phone. Between this and the hit against the door, he was either going to be stupid for the rest of his life or die.

… But anyway, I think that either I'm not that strong or that idiotic violator has a very hard head… Because neither of those things has happened. He's still alive. Very much in pain, that yes, but he's still alive.

I won't say I'm not happy that he's still alive, because I really did try to kill him for a second… And immediately afterwards I felt guilty. A hit on the head from a Nokia could be lethal, I don't know if you understand. And really, in the end I didn't want to kill anyone… only defend myself.

I think it was effective, because though he's not dead, I've made it so he won't come near me again. I left him made of shit.

Look at him! He should be on the brink of kicking the bucket or something. I felt a little guilty… but only a little. There's no compassion for harassers, after all.

Ignorant to the bastard's pain, I began to yell, "But you're an asshole! What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm nineteen years old! You can't call me little girl names! And I'm not 'cute,' _bastardo! Figlio di puttana!_"

God, what little adolescent girl screams… I'll pretend I didn't say that.

"Aaah… I already said… That you look… Italian… ay…" moaned the imbecile, doubled up in pain on the floor, and holding his head in his hands.

"But… Are you listening to me?!" I roared, lifting the phone above my head again.

"Wa… Wait! Please! I won't do anymore right now!"

I lowered the weapon after those words, and left it on the counter. I wasn't going to cause any more pain than I already had and… wait… Did he say "right now"?

Well, it was already too late to second guess. The bastard had risen faster than the speed of sound and grabbed the Nokia. I was left without a weapon.

Shit, now he would attack me!

Why do I say that? Because I've never met anyone who hasn't returned a punch. Apart from the idiot Feliciano and the macho-potato… who I'd prefer not to remember right now. I moved myself as far away from the Spaniard as I could, trying to prevent the hit I saw coming…

And then…

Then…

Then he put the phone in the pocket of his apron and sat at the table where we were eating before. He gave a few light taps to the table, calling me, "Come on, Lovino… I won't do it again, really. Come here. I don't bite."

Now I must be crazy. He wasn't going to return the hit? Incredible… So he ended up being a good guy and everything…

No, no, Lovino, you can't trust a harasser.

I approached cautiously, in case he wasn't as good as he seemed… After all, he still had the Nokia in his power. I asked him if he was going to return the hit, and he laughed.

"Of course not~! I deserved it in part, and I'm not a violent person~!"

"Are you calling me violent, bastard?" I asked, conscious that having hit him on the head with a Nokia didn't precisely demonstrate a gentle manner.

"Hahaha~ Well, you did hit me pretty hard, I have to say."

He watched me happily with shining eyes. What's more, he was smiling from ear to ear. I think I did make him stupid… Or perhaps he's always like this? Ugggh… What a masochist. But anyway, I think he's given me a compliment… He told me I was strong, right? That's good… I think.

"Hm," I mumbled, nibbling at a churro. "You're food is pretty sweet, damn it."

Though that was a lie.

"_Gracias~!_"

"I'm not flattering you, bastard."

"I'm Antonio… And if it's sweet it's good. Sweets never upset anyone."

"You're a bastard. And yes they have. A diabetic, for example," I pointed out.

The idiot sighed, devastated by my overwhelming logic.

But a second later he smiled again, more than before, if possible.

…

Seriously, I wonder how he smiles so much. It's very difficult for me…

Thinking this I remembered Feliciano; he's another one who never loses his smile. But upon remembering him I remembered the fight and my mood was once again soured. Annoyed, I turned my head and focused my eyes on the yellow wall. If looks could kill the damn wall would have disintegrated.

The bastard seemed to notice it.

"Lovi… I mean, Lovino… Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"I'm perfect." I gave an irritated grimace.

"No, you're not," he insisted. "You look annoyed."

"I just gave you a beating because you pissed me off… I can't perk up a minute after it all like you, get it?" I hoped the excuse would work.

It didn't.

"But… It seems like there's something more… Because you went like that really suddenly."

"I told you no, bastard!" I shouted, hiding my face.

"It's Antonio…"

"Bastard!"

Yes, of course, now I was going to tell my life story to an… almost stranger.

And then I was going to put on a grandma costume for Halloween.

…

No. Of course I wasn't.

It could be that you've seen something like that on the Internet… But that wasn't me! It was genjutsu! Someone from a parallel universe! But not me!"

"Well… I didn't want to make you tell me your problems… You don't have to answer if you don't want… Though I only want to help…" The bastard now appeared sad.

He can go fuck himself. I don't intend to tell him anything.

…

Damn it, now he looks like a beat puppy… But that doesn't make me regretful at all… I don't care that I talked to him in such a brusque manner at all. I don't care or anything… Fuck, those eyes… No! Don't you look at me like that, bastard! Your abandoned-puppy-dog face isn't going to weaken my conviction! You're not going to soften me in the least, so don't… Ah, and now you're turning your face to the floor with a drooping head! Fuuuuuck… I feel bad. No, Lovino, no! Don't fall for it, don't fall, don't fall, don't…

"I fought with my brother! Happy, bastard?"

Damn it. I fell for it.

"You did what?" he asked, surprised.

"I fought with my brother," I repeated, getting annoyed with his lack of brain and hearing. "And then I left home, slamming the door in their faces. I don't intend to return for the rest of the afternoon."

"Oh, I see… That's bad…"

Don't tell me that, bastard.

"Bah… It's the daily bread… I can't bear his little German friend, but what does he do but bring him over without telling me anything? It's not important, though."

"Of course it's important! I have a brother, too… It's been a while since I've seen or even talked to him… I regret it a bit."

"You have a brother? And what happened?" I asked, intrigued.

"I don't remember very well. It was a long time ago," he said sadly. "I tried but I can't even contact him. I don't know where he lives now, either… And once in a while I miss him…"

Well. Who would've known the bastard had siblings? It must have been a very bad fight if they're not even speaking. Didn't he have a phone? That really was tragic, not mine… I took another churro and gave it a bite. They were starting to cool down, the damned things. Why was physics against me? Why did they have to cool down so fast? Damn room temperature! Now I'd have to eat faster.

"Well…" I began to say to the bastard, "yours is worse than mine, I have to admit. Though if the same thing were to happen to me I don't think it would be any great thing. The _cazzo_ Feliciano wouldn't miss me if I disappeared, I'm sure. He's too busy."

"Don't say that… eh? Your brother is a _cazo_*? Or is it that your brother has a _cazo_ that's living and doesn't like you?" he asked me confusedly.

_Mio Dio_. My facepalm was fucking _epic_. This guy had no idea of Italian.

"I'm not explaining anything to you, imbecile," I barked, glaring at him.

"… But wait! Leaving the _cazo_ for a second…" Oh God. "Your brother is surely worried for you and…"

"No," I cut him off. "He's with his adorable super macho German. He doesn't need Lovino while he has him."

"German? I know one~! And a Prussian, too… The German is tall, blonde, pretty well-built…"

"LIKE ALL OF THEM, FUCKER!" I cut him off again. "And you shouldn't know any of them. They're scary and never bring anything good. And… Did you say Prussian? Prussia doesn't exist anymore."

[Author's note: Sniff… ;A;]

"Yes, but he prefers to think that he from Prussia. Leave him to live happily~!"

"Whatever…"

"Anyways… Why don't you like your brother's friend?" he asked, finishing one of MY churros.

"Ah… He always gets between my brother and I. He scares me, and what's more, I noticed a little while ago… He looks at my brother weirdly when he thinks no one's watching him. It's disgusting and he doesn't notice." The bastard looked at me, amused, as if he was keeping his opinion about that secret. "And the idiot that I have for a brother is always asking him for help instead of me, even though I'm his older brother. It's always 'Ludwig, help me, Ludwig~.' I can't stand it."

I extended my hand to grab the last churro on the plate.

"Ludwig?" the bastard began to say, reaching his hand for the plate as well. "The German that I know…"

I never knew the end of that sentence, because my hand, the one on the plate, was grabbed by his.

I think my blush (my angry blush, of course) was colossal.

"CHIGII! Damn you! What do you think you're doing now?! Do you want another punch?"

"Wah, Lovi, _lo siento_, I wasn't watching the plate. I thought I was holding a churro! It wasn't my intention!" he said, blushing a little.

"Like hell it wasn't!" I yelled. "You had all the intention, pervert! And don't call me Lovi!"

"_Lo siento!_"

There was a long silence after that. After a minute and a half I began to feel uncomfortable. And it seemed the bastard did, too. He smiled, and I furrowed my eyebrows with all of my strength. But I had to say something or the silence was going to end up swallowing me whole.

"I… I hope you give me a discount or something, bastard. Because… You're eating part of my food, I saw you."

The Spaniard went from smiling awkwardly to being happy for real. He seemed happy that I was speaking again. Fuck, where was the limit of happiness for this guy? I'm sure it's infinite, like the hunger of Falete* or the stupidity of a gypsy. I want to see it…

"Don't worry, it's my treat~!"

"Ah, thanks, bastard… WHAT?!" I'm sure my expression was fantastic. "I'm your first customer of the month… And it's your treat?! You're a fucking idiot! If you continue like that you're going to go bankrupt! You have to charge me at least sales tax!"

"Hahaha~! Don't worry, I'm already bankrupt~!"

And here is a great example of the expression "I laugh not to cry" or "in bad times good face." I went crazy. And even more so when he winked at me.

"For annoying you~! And so that you make peace with your brother."

"Eh… no. I don't intend to."

"Oh, do it, stupid~!" he laughed. "You won't want to end up like me, right? Brothers are something very important."

Oh, shit, don't attack me with all that emotional shit…

"I… It's okay… I'll do it… Don't smile like that! I'm only doing it because I don't want to pay," I lied.

"Very~ good~," he said, putting his finger on my nose. I held back from smacking him.

"Don't do that, idiot."

"_Perdona~!_"

… In the end he wasn't a bad guy. He was fairly nice and everything.

Then the bastard's Nokia began to sound. With a strange melody that reminded me of Feliciano… only more flamenco.

[Note: Spain's Marukaite Chikyuu~ :D]

"Hello?" he answered. "Ah, Francis! _¿Qué tal?_"

Before he stopped paying attention to me completely, I decided to bid farewell. I even said thanks for the food and everything, which is strange coming from me…

He gave me a goodbye gesture with his hand and winked at me again. He continued waving me goodbye until I left the shop.

…

…

Maybe I'd return one day. The food isn't that bad.

o.O.0.O.o

_Translation notes:_

_Cazo means ladle and is being mistaken for the Italian swear cazzo (fuck)._

_Falete is a gypsy flamenco singer. And yes he is quite large. Just google him. _

_Yay for school vacation and no worries~! :D Happiness is awesome! _

_Chibianimefreak out~_


	6. French Interrogation

_Hello everyone~! So apparently I've had this chapter done and saved to my computer for months now but haven't posted it… Sorry… So I'll post this now, and since I thought chapter seven was the one I had to have up, I've done that one too and will post it sometime in the next days. _

_BUT_

_You know what's funny (and oddly ironic, now that I think about it)? I'm posting from Spain right now. Yup. Awesome huh? You're all completely and irrevocably jealous, aren't you? I know. It's true. Suck it. Ehehe, but anyways, it's pretty awesome, and hopefully it will improve my Spanish and make translating these easier, and therefore make them easier for y'all to read! yay! _

_Without further ado, CHAPTER SIX_

o.O.0.O.o

**SPAIN'S POV**

Hello again~! Have you missed _jefe_? Because he definitely missed you~!

You've read the previous chapter, right? …Well, of course you've read it, what a question, if not, you wouldn't be reading this… If you're not one of those people who goes skipping chapters for fun... Which isn't good for anything… You miss lots of things!

If you've read the last chapter, you understand why I'm made of dust, right? My head hurts… My phone sure is hard as a rock~! Hahaha… ouch…

But anyway, my pain isn't important. I can hide it without a problem. What's going on is that I'm very~ happy~!

It's just that Lovi is so cute! I knew without more than just seeing him, because I have a type of radar for cute things~! He has eyes whose color I don't know how to describe completely, and are very profound… A super cute little curl and… and what's more, when he blushes he looks like a tomato~! I've never seen anything more adorable!

Though when I said that he almost hit me… Well, no, the truth is that he _did_ hit me, hahaha.

He's pretty violent and badmouthed (above all badmouthed), but I think we can become really good friends. If I insist, I think even more than Gilbert or Francis~! _Lo siento_, guys, but I have premonition about Lovi~!

Oh, and speaking of Francis, he's calling me… Answer, answer~!

"Hello? Ah, Francis, _¿qué tal?_" I greeted my friend with the most warm-hearted welcome tone, like I knew I should do.

"Well… I'm leaving now. Thanks for the food," Lovi said.

I gave him a thumbs-up to tell him I understood and, in passing, winked. His expression was priceless~! I continued waving my arm until he disappeared through the door, slamming it behind him.

…

I hope he returns one day. He was pretty nice.

I don't know if I was in a daze or something, because Francis' voice called me back from a place that seemed veeery far… I didn't hear what he was saying very well.

"_Tonio… Toni! Toni!_"

"Ah!" I came to my senses. "Francis? Is that you?"

"_Oui, mon ami_… _What happened? You seemed distracted_…"

"Eh… seriously? Sorry, I was saying goodbye to someone…" I told him, with a tone that seemed lost to me.

"_Ooooh… Don't tell me… It was a customer?_"

"_¡S__í!_ How did you know, Francis?"

"_Call it male intuition_," he told me simply.

I was fairly surprised. Male intuition? I had no idea men had that! I thought it was something women had… Francis really is incredible~!

But anyway, as he surely wanted to tell me something important (it's not every day he calls me on the telephone), I adjusted myself in my seat and placed my feet on the adjacent table.

"_Bueno, amigo m__ío_… What did you want to tell me? Something important?"

"_Ah_, _oui_." He cleared his throat. "_I wanted to talk to you about your deplorable economic situation, which doesn't seem to be getting better_…"

"Aw, Francis, thanks for worrying about me~." What thoughtful friends I have~! "I promise you that it will improve some day. I'm sure."

"_That's not sufficient,_ _Antoine_… _Have you paid the bills for the end of the month?_" My silence on the other side seemed to convince him that I hadn't. "_By that I mean… We can't lend you money every month, you know?_"

I felt badly after those words. I didn't want to be a burden…

"Francis…" I began to say, "you don't have to lend me money if you don't want… not you or Gilbert. Seriously. I can do it alone. You guys don't have to…"

"_Oh, Toni, don't say stupid things_," he cut me off. "_Of course we'll lend money to you. What are friends for,_ _mon ami?_"

"Francis…" I couldn't be happier. I have the best friends in he world.

On Francis' side I think I heard something like "_Damn Antonio. Why do you have to be so convincing? Another month without extra activities_…" or something like that… But I decided I must have heard wrong. My friend wasn't one to think that way.

There was a silence on the other line for a few seconds, but finally the Frenchman returned. This time with his preferred topic.

"_Okay, let's make it so we haven't just talked about what we just talked about, and change the topic. Tell me… A new customer is quite a novelty… Did you earn a lot?_" I noticed a perverted tone in his voice. I think he was more interested in knowing what the customer was like than the money in question.

"Nope~ I paid for it~," I answered, remembering Lovi's blushing face again.

"_But… Antoine!_ _You shouldn't do that!_"

"Hahaha, _lo siento_… I couldn't help it~."

More silence.

"_Hmmm… That means… she was a beauty, right?_"

"Eh… eh? No, Francis, not that…" I began to speak, trying to direct my friend away from that path, but it was useless. He was already stirred up.

"_How is she? Is she cute? She has to be a total beauty for you to have paid for her, knowing your situation!_"

"Eh… well… Yes, a cutie… but…"

"_I can see it already!_" He cut me off again. "_And how was the ass? Did she have a nice one?_"

"Eh…! Francis!" I said, annoyed. "Why should I pay attention to that kind of thing?"

"_It's normal to pay attention to those things before anything else, mon ami. It's instinct~. You'll understand when you grow up_…" he told me with a lewd voice. "_But seriously… You didn't notice even a little?_"

"I'm twenty six years old, Francis… and… well, no… I didn't pay much attention… no…"

I was happy I was in my house and not face to face with Francis. Because I think I was blushing quite a bit trying to remember Lovi's butt…

My friend was laughing on the other line.

"_Ah, it's a pity… well, then tell me… And the chest? Big?_"

I began to get the impression that Francis was confused about the gender of my customer…

"F… Francis… There wasn't much of a chest… But it's that…" I tried to clear the misunderstanding, but without success, because he continued to cut me off.

"_Oh, well, don't worry, flat-chested ones are also really hot… But I feel sorry for the Brazilian…_"

"Bra… Brazilian?"

"_Oh, nothing, Antoine, not important. Rather, now let's think about another thing. Describe her to me. Unimportant details, like the eyes… or the hair. Tell me_…"

"Oh, describing… well… He has short hair, chestnut bordering on dark, with a little curl that's tons of fun~. I wanted to pull it, but I didn't do it out of good manners. The eyes are profound, and… I don't know how to describe the color exactly… a green-brown… or… maybe amber? No, I don't know how to say it," I said. I noticed my voice was a bit dreamy, but I let it go. I was really being sincere.

"_Oh, it's nothing that bad, I have a pretty good image of her… You have to show her to me, okay?_" he said dreamily. "_Though that would be if she returns_…"

I was silent. Francis was right. He could not return… It gave me a sudden surge of depression.

… But no, I couldn't let myself be convinced by that stupid thought. Surely he would return, like everyone who's come has, some for good (Femke), some for bad (the smoker boy whose name I don't remember). So, encouraged by this certainty, I cheered up again. Yes, he was sure to return.

I transmitted my thoughts to my friend. He agreed with me, claiming I had "a way of being special and marvelous" and that, what's more, "I was a hunk". Well… _muchas gracias_, _mi amigo_~.

Then it occurred to Francis to ask me, "_Well, pardon, I haven't even asked the name of lucky person you're going to walk down the garden path with_…"

**[Translator's note: "walking down the garden path" is an expression for seduce]**

"Francis… I don't have a garden…"

"_Forget it, mon cherie… Just tell me her name_."

"Well… He told me his name was Lovino. Lovino Vargas."

"_Lovino? You said… Lovino?_" He sounded confused.

"_S__í_, Lovino."

Then he was the one who went silent. I don't know why I suddenly wanted to laugh.

"_Toni_…" he began to say to me, "… _Lovino isn't a woman's name_…"

"I never said it was," I explained. "Though it's not like you let me say so."

"…_then_…"

"_¿__Sí?_"

"_Are you attracted to men, Tonio?_" he asked me.

"Wh… what?" I began to feel nervous for some unknown reason. "Of course not! Not that I know of… I only said that he looked cute, nothing more… And I only said it from friendship, you know? What's more, if I was gay I would have already noticed, right?"

"_Hmmm… I don't think so_."

"What do you mean, Francis?"

"_Not important. Anyway_," he said, changing the topic, "_you've never been in a formal relationship, so you couldn't be sure. You have to do something to notice your likes, Antoine, and you have to do it soon. If you get any older, you'll be past your prime and after than you won't be able to do anything to help it._"

"Hmmm… What should I do?"

"_Buy porn. Of both genders, of guys, and of girls. And when you have them… I think you what you have to do with them, right? Zambomba~._"

I froze. Was he referring to…?

"F… Francis! ¡_P-por Dios__!_ I don't… I'm Catholic! Those types of things aren't okay!" Yes, I was Catholic, though it didn't seem so.

"_Come on, they're only videos… It's not like you're doing it with real people_."

"B…But the people _are_ real! And that's not the point!" I yelled, knowing where the Frenchman was going.

"_Calm down… It's to resolve your doubts… No one goes to hell for that_," he mumbled sweetly.

"Hmm… I… I'll think about it…" Needless to say, I wasn't going to do it. It's not like I was that indecisive anyways… I liked women, of course.

"_I don't believe that much_…" he said, not very convinced. "_Oh, a couple of little kitties require my attention. I'm going to have to hang up now_…"

I've spent enough time with him to know that by "little kitties" he meant "women" so I bid him farewell and hung up.

It was very hot now.

Thinking about what Francis had said… It's okay. I've never had a "relation" with a girl. At parties I'm always the one watching as Francis and Gilbert hook up, while I'm only chatting with them and treating them to drinks. What does Gil call it? _Paga-coca colas? Pagafantas? _Something like that.

The question was, although I've been with someone day or two, in the end they always leave me for someone more… their type. I don't consider leaving. Francis says it's not my fault, that the girls nowadays prefer more smug guys… But I don't know.

Anyways, from there to buying myself porn in order to test my likes there was a distance. My mother had always instilled in me that masturbation, homosexuality, infidelity, and those things were bad… She'd instilled them very deep… And I agreed with it all… less with the homosexuality, of course. I didn't see why God was going to punish men for loving, and not finding sense, I didn't really pay her much attention.

But I wasn't going to buy those videos. Period.

… not that I had many doubts and…

No! Nothing of that!

I stood up to collect the dirty plates, fully involved in my thoughts, when I noticed a sudden sharp pain in my head. Finally the Nokia hurt me… Boo~

After eating I was going to put on a bandage.

**Italy's POV**

Vee~

I'm happy~!

I wonder if I could be any happier… I suppose so, but… Vee, it's just that I'm very~ happy~.

Why? Who's asking? Ah, _sei tu_~!

Hehe, _grazie_ for asking~.

Well… I was happy because _il mio fratello_ Lovino and I made up. It was a weird afternoon… You know? Today I've invited my best friend, Ludwig, to eat. You'd imagine that it was only to eat, of course, but in the end he stayed for the entire afternoon, until it got dark.

Do you know who Ludwig is?

I met him four years ago. He's German, blonde, veery~ tall, veert~ muscular, and has veery~ beautiful blue eyes. When I arrived here, to Spain, it was him who most helped me learn Spanish. He's very smart, and, although he's pretty serious, he's very nice and good to me~. Vee~. He always helps me and defends me when I get into trouble. Isn't he marvelous?

Hmmm~, you know?

I like Ludwig. I like him a lot.

Vee~ I said it, hehe. I makes me a little embarrassed…

… But it's true… that I like him. I had though to say it to him today…

We were in my house, it was almost nighttime, and I was about to leave, and then I saw my opportunity. Took him quickly by the hand and looked into his eyes intently. A friend of mine, Elizabeta, says that it's like that memorable confessions are made, and I wanted that kind of confession for Ludwig.

"Fe… Feliciano? What… What's going on?" He looked at me a little annoyed.

I blushed, and look away… vee… I definitely couldn't look him in the eyes…

"Vee…" I tried to say something, seriously, but only babbles came out. I've gotten tongue-tied! "I… I… You see, Lu… Lud… Ludwig… v… v… v… ve… vee…"

"Eh, are you okay?" He looked at me with eyes brimming with worry. "You look a bit upset… you know… You know that if you have a problem you can tell me, right?"

"Vee… Yes, I know. I… um… you see, I wanted to… tell you something…"

"Come on, then," he told me seriously.

If I could at least look him in the face… But I couldn't, vee… My heart was going at a million beats a minute, I got tongue-tied, and I noticed something strange in my stomach. But I tried anyways.

"You see… I… vee~ for… for some time… v… v… ve… vee…" I took a great breath of air. "Ludwig, for some time I've… I've…"

"Eh? Wh… What do you want to say?" I noticed my nervous friend. Was his hand shaking a little? Vee… No, they must be my imagination…

"I…"

BAM!

The door to the house opened super strongly, and it almost gave me a heart attack, ve!

"_Sono qui_, damn it!" It was my brother's voice.

Then everything happened really quickly. My _fratello_ entered, kicked Ludwig out of the house without contemplation, said a few swears, and closed himself in his room. I wanted to make up, but he didn't open the door no matter how much I begged, so I set to leave, but then…

"_Oi, cazzo! A… Aspetta…_" he yelled at me, with the door still closed.

"Ve?" I stopped.

"_Io_… I'm… I'm sorry… From now on you can in… invite that bastard to the house, okay?"

Vee… I couldn't believe it. He apologized! And what's more he said I could bring Ludwig over!

"Seriously, _fratello? Grazie!_ Can I really invite him whenever I want?

"Yes, yes… But only when I'm not here. _Capito!_"

"Vee~." I was amazed.

"_Buonannotte!_" he told me, finally.

And I didn't hear any more of him.

But I couldn't believe it, seriously. Though it seemed real…

Do you understand now why I'm sooo~ happy?

And tomorrow… Tomorrow I'll confess! I'll do it! Vee~!


	7. A Workday in the Museum

_Yay for a new update that's more recent~! So, when I got to Spain I felt reeeaaallly inspired for Spamano, so I decided that the first thing I would do would be finish the latest chapter of this translation. Now, when I open my documents, I see that this is chapter seven, so I'm like "Okay, I guess I'll finish chapter seven." And I did. Except, when I finished chapter seven and went to post it I saw I hadn't posted chapter six yet… So… I did that. _

_BUT HERE IS CHAPTER SEVEN FINALLY GAH. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own hetlia, nor the original story (in Spanish) by the incredibly amazing Kaitogirl95. Yay~_

o.O.0.O.o

**ROMANO'S POV**

I've never wanted to apologize less than yesterday. Seriously.

Firstly, not long after leaving that fucking café, I got lost in the maze of streets. It took _one hour_ to leave that roach-infested hovel. And afterwards, to finish it off, I got lost in the city. But of course, it's obvious you'd lose yourself in an area if it were the first time you've been there. Because I left so quickly from home that I didn't even notice where I'd gone.

Yes, I know it's my own fault.

Shut up. At least I explored a new area.

Anyways, when I arrived at home night had fallen. To top it off, the macho-potato was still there when I arrived. Why the hell?! Fuck, how I hate him. The mutual hate that fans for Real Madrid and fans of Barça have for each other is nothing compared to mine. To know what he and my brother were doing… Just thinking of any activity that includes Mr. Potato makes me lose my appetite.

What's more, when I entered the living room there was an uncomfortable silence. The behemoth was blushing and my brother's face was transforming into a tomato. He had such red cheeks that he looked like an alien with an idiot's face. I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't seen the curl, which wasn't in its original form, either, no sir. It was a mess and shaped like a zigzag. How the hell had he done that?

But in the end. I already wasn't in the mood to deal with the macho German, nor with his enormous presence, intimidating and sausage-like as him, so (incredible but true) I shoved him from the apartment. I don't know how I did it. I think I deserve a metal or something similar. Though Feliciano didn't stop giving me a dirty look, with his usual face of "you've ruined everything, _Fratello_." Nonetheless, I happened to interpret nothing and left for my room, closing myself within with the lock. My idiotic brother followed me, and I used the closed door to excuse myself from him. I'm a genius.

I think I said a few things more, but I'm too tired to remember…

But in the end. The matter is that I fulfilled the promise that I made to Antonio the bastard. Obviously. I'm a trustworthy Italian.

That was yesterday. Yesterday was my first proactive day in months. But not today. Today I'm exhaaausted. I have nothing to do and I'm tired that those guys that just ran a marathon. Like every day of my wretched, boring life.

And I'm telling you… If it doesn't interest you to watch a rerun of House, read Cuanto Cabron, Cuanta, Razon, etc., or scorn the German ancestors, you can leave and go spy on someone with more of a life. Like Feliciano, for example.

Today that bastard's working…

**ITALY'S POV**

Vee~ I can't…

I can't do it.

You'd think I have to paint, but every time I try to Ludwig enters my head… And so I can't. I'm getting distracted~. And it's that today I've thought about confessing… Now that my _fratello_ has consented to let me bring Ludwig home whenever I want, I feel braver, vee~.

Well, at least that was what I thought… I don't feel capable anymore. I saw Ludwig a couple of times this morning, and every time he's tried to get closer to me, I've responded badly and left running… Something that I already know is typical of me, but nonetheless… I'm scared.

I've stopped thinking it was a good idea.

"Hello, Feliciano. What are you doing?" a voice behind me said.

"Vee!" I spun around and could see a brunette Austrian man, with a mole near his mouth, a severe look and rectangular glasses that were observing me from the door. I hadn't noticed his presence because I was immersed in my apprehensions. I greeted him, waving my hand, "Boss, good morning~. You sure have gotten up early today. It's only nine~."

Roderich is always in the habit of arriving around eleven. He says he doesn't have anything to do here besides watch how we're working, and so he stays sleeping a bit longer at home.

"Vargas. You haven't drawn anything. Useless," he stated, indicating with his finger at my blank canvas.

"Vee~ Sorry, sorry…" I apologized. Every time the boss has called me by my last name it was because he was angry, or once in a while, annoyed. "It's that I have a problem and… I can't stop thinking about it… and about what to do about it."

"Hmmm… a problem? What's it regarding?" He grabbed a chair and sat next to me with a worried look. I looked around hurriedly.

The boss and I have known each other for a long time, and he's come to be something like an uncle, almost a father, to me. He always overused the word useless, but… He worried a lot about what was happening to me, though he didn't always show it. He was pretty mean most of the time, but he's someone you can confide in. Though I didn't know how to tell him this… I'm sure he'd look at me weirdly. I tried to avoid the conversation.

"Vee… okay, well… They're problems with love," I murmured, looking the other way.

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry, I can't give you much guidance about that. I think it's gone as badly for me as with you." He sighed. "Though I can give you support when you're recovering if you want."

"Ah… thanks, boss. I suppose." I smiled somewhat uncomfortably before he overwhelming truth.

"Well, I wanted to speak with you about something…" he changed the topic, to my relief. "I wanted to have a conversation with you about your excessive attachment to Beilschmidt."

"Ve? To Beil… what?" I don't think I've every heard such a strange name.

"I'm referring to Ludwig."

"Vee~ Ludwig~."

I blushed a little as the Austrian sighed tiredly. He had bags under his eyes… Had he only slept a little?

"I wanted to say that… Well, that it's not okay for you to get attached to only one person. Because of what could happen later on."

"Vee… I don't understand." I cocked my head confusedly. Roderich sighed again and shook his head.

"Let's see… How to say this…" he muttered. "Let's see, Feliciano… If you give too much affection to Beilsch… to Ludwig, later it you could come to regret it… I wanted to say that you should open yourself up a little and find new friends and those things that you young people do…"

I watched him even more confusedly now. But little by little I began to understand, and as I understood, my face reddened. He hadn't noticed?

"Eh… Boss, I…"

"But anyway," he interrupted me, "paint something before the day ends, please."

He stood and replaced the chair in its former place. He bid me farewell as he held back a yawn. The lounge door closed behind him softly, and I turned back to the canvas. I though about what he'd said. It'd been brief, but I'd understood what he wanted to say.

If he had said it to me a year and a half ago or more I probably wouldn't have understood. I understood now because what could happen to me had happened. Maybe if he had said it before I would have noticed and distanced myself a little from Ludwig… Then I wouldn't be like this now…

"Vee… You arrived little late, Boss… It's already happened to me," I murmured quietly.

"Late for what?" another voice behind me said.

"Veee?!" I turned quickly.

An albino with red eyes and a little yellow chick on his shoulder was observing me. Gilbert, Ludwig's older brother. He was watching me with a malicious smile. I wonder when and how he'd gotten in…

"_Guuuuuuten morgen_, Feli-chan!" he greeted me, yelled as always. "The awesome me has come to visit you and spend some time with you!"

"Vee~ Gil! How did you get in? I didn't hear anything…" I asked him, still somewhat surprised.

"Hohoho… I'm so awesome that people can't even notice my awesome presence!" he bragged. "But anyway… What were you talking about? What happened to you?"

"Vee! No… nothing… things of love…" I tried to evade the topic the same way I had with Roderich.

It worked.

Gilbert decided to leave the topic and began to talk to me about his things.

"Well anyway… When I arrived I ran into that spoiled brat! I couldn't believe it, but I already soured his good morning… oh, and you're not going to believe this…"

While his owner was speaking, Gilbird, the chick, landed on my finger. It's so cute, vee~! I began to fuss over it and stroke it and, why not, ignore Gil a little. He was only talking about meaningless things… Like at that moment he began to rant about the indecency of this museum, of the awful work that blah blah blah, and et cetera… Oh, and he began to say things in German, as if he thought I could understand him. It's a very beautiful language, to me… But I don't understand it in the least… I only know how to say yes, no, good morning, good afternoon, goodnight, and a few swears, which I don't say because I'm a good boy~. At that moment, the only thing that was important to me was that the chick was saying "pii~."

But a few words that he uttered shook me out of my daydreaming.

"In summary, two gays there openly making out! They have no decency, _verdammt_!"

It hit me like a kick to the stomach.

"Ve… Do you have something against homosexuals, Gil?" I said, hurt by his words.

"Eh? _Nein!_ Not at all… But you've been listening to me, right boy?"

"Eh… well… a little…" I tried to conceal the fact that I hadn't been paying him even the least bit of attention.

"Ah… What a kid. Look, I have nothing against homosexuals," he began to explain to me. "Rather, I'm one of the heterosexuals who most likes gays. My girlfriend's things, you know…"

"Vee… Gil, Elizaveta still isn't your girlfriend…"

Gilbert liked Elizaveta a lot, a Hungarian friend of mine. They're childhood friends, and have always liked each other, though neither of the two of them wanted to recognize it. They make me jealous, because one day soon they'll end up together, unlike me…

"Nonsense, Feli! She's my girlfriend. It's just that she doesn't know it yet… It's too awesome for her, so I'll leave it for her to discover instead of telling her…"

"Vehehehe~!"

"Don't laugh! _Verdammt_… But what I was telling you. I have nothing against homosexuals… As long as they don't nearly fuck in the doorway of a public place! Children come to this museum!" he announced. "It's just that they're making out in the doorway, and it grates on my nerves a lot. And the same could be said for straight people, of course, but that wasn't the case and… Are you okay?"

No, I wasn't okay. Having imagined myself kissing Ludwig in a public place had broken me. My face was as red as tomato sauce. I tried to hide myself with my hands and I hyperventilated a little, my heart accelerating. Vee… Why does my brain do this to me?

Though… Ludwig's lips look very soft~ And kissable~ And chewable~ And… Ah, not again!

I tried to clear the image out of my mind, shaking my head, but it was useless…

"Feli? What's wrong? You're acting like this because I'm talking about gays…"

"Vee…"

"I can't be that you're… Are you gay, Feli?" He noticed. I want to die. But my face said everything, apparently. Gilbert looked me up and down with a look I don't know how decipher. "Hmmm… I wasn't expecting that…"

"Vee… Don't hate me for this…"

He looked at me befuddled.

"Hate you? Why? For being gay? What nonsense!"

"But the Pope says that…"

"I don't care what the Pope says! Gays are cool!" He hit me on the chest, startling Gilbird. "Rather… I'm not, but I approve of them."

"There are a lot of people who don't…"

"But I'm not 'a lot of people.' The awesome me is the awesome me! I like you just as much as before, Feli-chan."

Vee~ It's a good thing that Gilbert doesn't hate me~.

Although…

It's best if he finds out I like his brother…

"Eh… Gilbert, you see… It's that…" I tried to tell him before it was too late, but he'd stopped paying me attention. He was looking out the window with a bad face.

"Okay, Feli!" He patted me on the head, looking into the distance. "The awesome me has spent a half an hour here already, and I don't want to annoy you while you work! So I'm leaving!"

**Hasta mas ver!**

"Ve? You've only been here for fifteen minutes…"

"_Bis vald!_" he yelled, leaving hurriedly through the door, closing it with a resounding sound behind him.

I wonder what came over him so suddenly like that…

But anyways, now that he'd left it wasn't worth it to go around in more circles. I turned once more to the blank canvas, this time deciding to paint something once and for all. Nonetheless, when I lifted the paintbrush, I stopped. My mind began to wander a little bit. This time I thought about homophobic people. There were many homophobes in the world… starting with my brother, I believe. I think so… Or maybe not… I'm not sure.

But… Is Ludwig?

Chances are he is homophobic. I don't know, but he could be. He was so tall, so muscular, so handsome… Surely he liked girls. What's more, in his house there were lots of magazines about them underneath his mattress. He liked girls, and I wasn't one. So there's no way… Although… I also like girls… vee…

I was so concentrated that I didn't see that someone was nearing me from behind. I noticed when a hand was placed on my shoulder and a very sweet voice whispered into my ear.

"Boo."

A shame, but the sweetness of that voice didn't save me from having a heart attack.

"Veeee!" I screamed, and I fell from the chair.

It almost gave me a heart attack, seriously. I turned and found myself face to face with Elizabeta.

I liked my friend Eli a lot. She was brown-haired, beautiful, with a nice rack and was always wearing a smile that stretched from ear to ear. What's more she's super nice.

Today she was wearing a white flower in her hair (a real flower, how cool~), and a pretty green dress. She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Feli, you're soooo~ uke when you jump like that… heehee, if you could see your face…"

"You startled me~. How did you enter without me seeing you? It's already the second time that's happened to me today…"

"Well, I entered very carefully, so as not to annoy you." She winked at me. "But I couldn't resist scaring you a little. Sorry~."

"Vee~!"

"Oh, by the way, who scared you before?" she asked while pulling up a chair and sitting by my side.

"Hm? Oh, Gilbert," I answered, watching the canvas without starting.

"Oh. I didn't see him leave… Though I don't miss him. Anyway he's strange. He's avoiding me… I want to know why, but I can never find him…"

He was avoiding her? Ah, now I understand why Gil left so quickly. He must have seen her entering through the window. The only thing I don't understand is why he's avoiding her…

"Vee… How strange. If I see him and remember, I'll ask him."

"Gracias, dear~." She petted my head. "By the way… Have you seen that pair of homosexuals making out in the doorway?"

How much success have those two been having in the doorway today…

…

Was it just me, or was Eli…? Yes, she was bleeding from the nose. With a dirty smile that made me a little scared. In these moments I never know what's going through her mind exactly…

"Vee… I haven't seen them, but Gil told me about them… They're still there?"

"Ha~, they're still there, to my delight."

Then I thought and came up with something. Maybe Eli could help me…

"Eli… something…"

"What is it, dear?"

"Well… What would you do if you liked someone of the same sex? Knowing that that person likes people of the opposite sex."

She thought for a moment.

"Are you talking about Ludwig, love?" She inclined her head, smiling softly.

"Vee! You know?!"

"Of course I know, Feli-chan~. I'm always the first to find out about these things~," she said the last part with a slightly dark tone…

"Ah…" I scratched my head, looking to the side, completely red. "And… what?"

"Well, let's see… Love is complicated…" She stayed thinking. "One the one hand, you have nothing to lose if you confess… since Ludwig is already always with you. I'm sure he'll try to do something… He could even try to fall in love with you so you don't feel bad, hohoho~."

"How could that happen? It's impossible, vee!" I think smoke came out of my ears, I was so red.

"Anything is possible. On the other hand…" She pointed to me. "On the other hand, you can always try to seduce him yourself, trying to make it so that he doesn't notice what you're doing… There's a chance that could also work."

"That's worse! I'd rather confess and get it over with… Surely he'll reject me, so it's better that I do it quickly.

"Come on… Why do you say that?"

"Because he's not gay… He likes girls."

Then she glared at me.

"Feli, stop being so negative!" she yelled.

"Ve!" I sat up immediately and tautened my back.

"Ah… You don't have to label people! 'He's not gay", "she likes girls"… Those are only labels. I always say that. Someone doesn't fall in love with someone for their physical appearance, but for how they are. And that context includes as many men as women."

"Ve?"

"Basically… The whole world can fall in love with someone of the same sex once. While you can like who they are and like they're way of being, it won't matter their sex. That's what I always say." She raised her head with pride. "You like a boy, Feli, but I won't call you gay, because it would be labeling you. Understand?"

"Vee… I think so…"

"You have to walk with your head up! Understand? Brighten up! Ludwig can fall in love with you in just a second! I'm already sure of it…"

I smiled. Her words had cheered me up a little. But…

"Vee… Then… I have to confess?"

"Without a doubt, love."

"Yes, but… How?"

"How? She looked at me confusedly. "Well… You say it. Something like 'Ve, Lud, I love you!' or something like that…"

"But that's too shameful! I can't do that!" I shook my head.

I dropped my head into my hands, embarrassed; although deep down I was very thankful to Elizaveta for her help. Only I couldn't think of anything, that's for sure. On the other hand, the brown-haired girl was very concentrated in thinking of something. What could it be?

"Oh! I've got it!" She jumped it, clapping once.

"What is it? What?" I asked anxiously.

"If you can't say it… Write it!"

"Vee… Write it?"

"Exactly! Letters are beautiful, sincere, and romantic~. Perfect, no?"

"Vee! You're right! I'll write a letter!" I recovered some bravery once again.

"That's what I like, Feli! Good uke~." She petted my head. "When you have it, make sure to read it or something. Then tell me about it."

"Of course~. Thanks so much~!"

I laughed. It would take some time to write the letter, but it would be better and less embarrassing, I'm sure!

And with the support that everyone had given me, I was ready to confront anything!

I'm ready for everything!

Ve~!


End file.
